That Exquisite Pain
by Umiko-wa
Summary: AU: Hermione was left behind when her friends escaped Malfoy Manor. Now she is being subjected to every possible method of abuse at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. She wishes for death, but instead faces a new kind of torture when the Malfoy heir takes over for his aunt. (Dramione fic with other possible pairings. Rated M for violence and future sexual content).
1. Prisoner

***DISCLAIMER* **Naturally, if I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't have the time to write fan fiction for it! The HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, I am just a fan (or am I? No really. I am.)

_**Chapter One**_

_**Prisoner**_

Hermione Granger wished, more than anything, for death.

She must be close to it. Today, according to the rough calendar she kept with nail scratches in the dungeon wall, marked the seventh in Lestrange's unforgiving onslaught. The seventh since the others had escaped…

She tried to push them from her mind- Harry, Ron, Luna, Ollivander, Dobby and Griphook. At least her dying wouldn't be for nothing. At least they had made it out alive.

When that chandelier had come crashing down, Bellatrix had propelled herself backward to avoid it, thus pushing Hermione forward into Ron's arms. She thought that had been it. She had felt safe again, finally.

But the respite was a brief one. Just as Dobby prepared to apparate, just as Bellatrix made one last desperate attempt to regain control by throwing her dagger, Lucius had grabbed Hermione's hand and yanked her- so hard that the surprised Ron could not keep his hold.

Then they were gone.

The next few seconds seemed to drag on for ages. She thought she may have screamed, but all she could hear was the blood rushing into her ears as she realized what had happened.

Bellatrix's cackle followed her into the dungeons.

For the next two days, she had known, just felt, that they would come back for her. Their capture turned rescue mission had gone awry, that's all. They'd regroup and return for her. She barely shed a tear, unlike the first time, as Lestrange cast every manner of spell and curse meant to bully her victim into talking. She was thrown back into the dungeon each time, bleeding and nearly unconscious, given a hunk of bread and glass of water, and told it would happen again the next day.

The second night, the nightmares began. She dreamt of the war, of Hogwarts burning, of her friends dying terrible, slow deaths. Bellatrix was always in them. She woke up several times each night, covered in cold sweat with tears running down her face.

Her resolve began to crack on the fourth day. She had barely been able to stand up by herself, but Bellatrix showed her no mercy. She allowed herself to cry out in agony when the Cruciatus Curse fell on her. Bellatrix smiled wickedly, taking the screams as Hermione breaking. She'd been right to think so. Hermione was broken, physically, but she still refused to give up any information about the Order.

"Where are the safe houses?!" Bellatrix would scream at her. Every day it was the same questions. _Where are they hiding? How did you get into my vault? What else did you take?_ But Hermione remained silent, only letting the screams that seemed more and more involuntary escape her lips.

She looked at the word "Mudblood" which was still carved into the skin of her inner left arm. In the dim lighting of the dungeons, the word looked black against the graying pallor of her skin. The pain had been excruciating, not like any cut she had ever experienced before. Each stroke had sliced into her arm like salt poured into an open wound that burned all the way to her shoulder. This cursed cut had become a favorite of Bellatrix. First it had been "Mudblood", then slices along her cheekbones, then her neck. She had cuts all over her chest and arms, and today, the seventh, they had moved to her abdomen. "Dirty" was now scrawled across it.

Not only did these cuts burn and bleed, but they kept burning and bleeding for hours afterward. Even "Mudblood" still oozed. She had a suspicion that they would become infected without proper care, but had no idea how these magical wounds worked. Her clothes, the sweater and pants she'd been wearing when they'd been captured, were now stiff with dried blood and smelled as bad as Wormtail. Her hair was matted with the dark brown liquid, now crusting off in flakes every time she moved her head. At first, she'd used some of her meager daily water supply to wash herself, but had soon given up on it. There was a hole in the corner of the cell meant as a lavatory, but she was so dehydrated and starved she didn't really need it.

She swallowed painfully and tried to distract herself from the pain of today's incisions. Cutting and the Cruciatus were not the only methods Bellatrix employed. Not by far. She was adept at both physical and mental abuse. Hermione had blocked off any pertinent Order information behind impenetrable walls in her mind, but that didn't stop Bellatrix from attacking. She'd find a memory, a cherished one, and warp and corrupt it until it was unrecognizable. She had already erased much of her childhood. Hermione dreaded the day when she finally decided to focus on Hogwarts, or Harry or Ron.

Today, the evil woman had nearly succeeded in erasing her mother completely from her mind. It had been one of the last memories of her, from Christmas the previous year. Hermione put up every mental defense she could muster to keep it from happening. She succeeded only because Narcissa interrupted their session today with an urgent message. Hermione wasn't around to hear it, since Wormtail had thrown her back down here. Bellatrix smiled her cruel smile at her before she left, "I look forward to seeing what your filthy, muggle mother gave you dear girl," she'd said.

Hermione clung to the memory, and tried to focus what little energy she had left on hiding it away. But yesterday, the sixth day, had been the day she'd given up. She'd stopped eating and drinking the bread and water, and had succumbed to the dizzying pain of her wounds. What energy she had left was barely enough to close her eyes.

She didn't know how long she'd been down in the dungeon when the door opened again. Was it a new day already? She opened her eyes just enough to see a shadow descending the stairs and approaching the gate. This figure wasn't Wormtail, though. That traitor was short and fat, whereas this person's dark figure was long and lean. The gate opened and Hermione tried to sit up, failing miserably. The pain in her arms prevented her from moving them much. She let out a grunt as she fell backward again, taking shallow breaths to calm herself.

"If I am to go back up there, you'll have to carry me." She rasped, her lips dry and cracked from dehydration and her throat scorched from screaming.

The figure paused but said nothing in response, then began stalking towards her again. The light from the barred window at the top of her cell illuminated a white hand as it drew a wand from the inside of a black coat.

"Are you here to kill me?" She couldn't keep the hope from penetrating her voice. Still no response. Finally, the figure was upon her and the light reached his pale, angular face.

"Malfoy? Wha-"

"That's enough, Granger._ Lumos._"

She squinted against the sudden glare, momentarily blinded after spending so much time in darkness. When her eyes adjusted, Draco Malfoy was kneeling beside her, wand stretched out. His white-blond brows were furrowed in concentration, silvery eyes taking in the state of her body. He began murmuring words that were incomprehensible. Wafts of light blue light began pulsing from the tip of his wand, collecting over the cuts and bruises on her right arm. They began to bubble and sting, causing a hiss to escape Hermione's teeth. She began struggling to move away.

"This will be much easier if you don't move or talk," Malfoy whispered, almost soothingly. In her current mental state, Hermione could not process what his tone meant.

He moved up her arm and across her chest and neck. The stinging sensation moved along with it. Hermione tried to breathe deeply, but there were bruises on her ribs- she suspected that more than one was broken- that kept her from doing so. What was this new torture?

Malfoy continued his spell, covering her left arm and then slowly lifting her shirt to expose her abdomen. She moved to stop him, and was surprised when pain didn't engulf her right arm as she did so. Surprised, she stopped her struggle and flexed her right hand experimentally, staring at it. Where had the cuts gone?

She looked down her body as Malfoy finished with her stomach, amazed as the bubbling gave way to smoothing as the cuts disappeared.

Malfoy was healing her?

He had been there, every day since the first, standing in the corner and watching as his aunt abused her. He never spoke and never joined in- he just watched. She assumed it gave him some twisted form of enjoyment, seeing his childhood nemesis break.

Then why was he healing her?

Bile rose in her throat as she realized: he was healing her so that they could bring her back to the edge of death again, continually trying to wear her down. They would never kill her, not until she gave them what they wanted. There was no other explanation.

"Why can't you just kill me?" her voice was slightly stronger now, but it hurt to push the words past her sore throat.

"I said to shut your mouth, Granger. I suggest you do as I say." He drew her shirt further up with the tip of his wand and began working on her ribs. She inhaled sharply as cold air hit the exposed skin. If he tried to bring her shirt up any higher-

But he didn't. He moved it back down, careful not to actually touch her bare flesh with his hands.

The pain in her ribs began to subside as the healing magic reached her face. She took a deep breath and nearly cried when pain didn't shoot through her ribcage. Hermione's eyes went to Malfoy's as his followed the lines of her cuts and found every bruise. Tears finally escaped and trailed down her cheek as the sensitive skin began to heal. When he was done, he met her eyes briefly. She could not read what was in them. Anger? Sympathy, maybe? He looked away too quickly for her to tell.

Malfoy rose and walked back to the gate, picking something up before returning to her side. In his hands he held a jug of water and a bed roll.

"Sit up and drink this," he said, holding out the jug. It was much easier to sit up now, she realized as she tried. Her muscles were still incredibly weak, but at least they did not hurt. She made no move to take the water from him.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, drink the damn water," he shoved it in her direction again.

"No, I don't want to be healed just to be hurt again. Why couldn't you have just let me die?"

Malfoy growled in frustration, setting the jug next to her and unrolling the makeshift mattress. Once he'd done so, he walked away again, locking the gate behind him as he left. Before going up the stairs, he looked back to find her staring after him.

"You're no use to us dead," he said quietly.

Then he was gone.


	2. Torture

***DISCLAIMER* No matter how much I wish I owned the rights to Harry Potter, I do not. Everything/one familiar belongs to the world created by the great J.K. Rowling.  
**

**Thanks for reading and following! I hope to update at least every week, if not more. Also, please comment and review! I'm always open to criticism and suggestions.  
**

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Torture**_

"STUPID, MUDBLOOD BITCH!_ CRUCIO_!"

Hermione's mouth opened as the pain engulfed her, but if sound came out she did not hear it. All her senses were focused on the excruciating, incontrollable movements of her muscles and her bones as her body convulsed and contorted. Then Bellatrix was above her and she was frozen, lying on her side, back arched unnaturally and neck torqued to the right.

"I will ask you this one more time before I cut out those pretty little eyes of yours," the Death Eater whispered, bending low so her face was right above Hermione's, "where did the elf take them?"

Hermione opened her mouth to spit out a retort but all that came out was a low whine. She couldn't breathe in this position. Her eyes fluttered shut as tears began to flow and her surroundings became fuzzy.

_Snap! _The hold on her body broke and she was flipped violently onto her stomach. She landed with a grunt before inhaling deeply. Her exhale carried sobs. She barely had enough time to breathe in again before Bellatrix began kicking her in the rib cage, pointy-toed boots meeting bone with loud thumps. Hermione curled into the fetal position with a cry, trying to blunt the pain.

"Where-" _thump! _"are-" _thump! _"the safehouses?!" _thump, thump! _

"I don't know!" Hermione finally sobbed. "They change them! They don't tell us ahead of time!"

The kicking stopped and Bellatrix laughed. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

She kicked her hard, one more time, for good measure. "Take her away!"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Wormtail dragged her to her feet and shoved her out the door. Today's torture had lasted longer than normal.

The pain had been worse today, too, almost as bad as the first time. It was Malfoy's fault. She seethed as she thought of his healing session. She had been so close to escape, only to have him take it away. It was almost worse than Bellatrix.

But that had been the point, hadn't it? During today's session Malfoy was right back in his corner, leaning against a column, arms crossed, watching. She'd stared him down at first, trying to make his gray eyes show something other than stony silence.

When she made it back to the dungeon, she immediately went to the thin bed roll and laid down facing the ceiling. Back to shallow breaths. She gingerly felt along her rib cage- at least three were broken.

The jug of water was half empty. A few hours before the sun came up that morning, she'd finally given in, her thirst distracting her from everything else. The water had tasted heavenly, but she'd only allowed herself a few swallows, pouring a generous amount onto her hair and face. The droplets turned a rusty brown as days of caked-on blood were washed away. She wasn't sure how long she could make the water last, or if she would be getting any more. Though if her suspicions were correct, and Malfoy was just healing her to hurt her, he'd bring more after she was close to death again. She sat up slowly and reached out for the water. Only taking a few gulps each day should preserve it if Malfoy never brought more, but as the water trickled down her dry throat a plan began to form.

For the first time since she realized the others were not coming back for her, Hermione smiled.

* * *

Wormtail dropped off her hunk of bread, but no water, the next morning. Hermione stayed curled up on her bedroll, affecting a slight shiver until she could hear the door at the top of the stairs close again. She sat up and ate the bread quickly. It was the same dry, grainy stock as always, but she ate it with newfound fervor. Last night she had eaten the rations that she'd previously left untouched, trying to build up strength. Her stomach still hurt from the amount of food she'd forced into it. She stood and brought a hand up to her tally-mark calendar, adding the ninth mark. Her hands and arms were newly scratched and bruised from yesterday's session, and she smiled to see that they looked worse than they felt. Bellatrix had ended up doing her a favor, making yesterday's torture more brutal than normal.

Hermione took her first daily sip of water and curled back onto the bed roll.

She had no way to judge time, but not long after, Wormtail came back to retrieve her. She closed her eyes and started shivering again, coughing loudly as he opened the gate.

"Get up, Mudblood, time to go again."

Hermione opened her eyes to slits, trying to make them look unfocused. She made a weak effort to push herself off the ground, only to collapse again, body wracked with dramatized spasms.

"Merlin's beard," Wormtail muttered, coming to her side and grabbing her arm roughly to sit her up. She remained dead weight as he struggled to lift her off the ground and carry her up the stairs.

"What's this? Our little princess feeling a bit under the weather this morning?" Bellatrix's voice reached Hermione's ears but she didn't open her eyes until Wormtail dumped her onto the floor. She landed in a graceless heap, not having to act out a groan when pain shot up her spine. She looked up at Bellatrix, shaking, as the older witch stalked towards her.

Hermione's eyes flew to Draco's usual corner. There he was, staring her down again. She wanted, badly, to meet his cold stare with a determined one of her own, but instead she broke eye contact and began sobbing. She curled into a ball as Bellatrix reached her.

"I so look forward to these sessions, my dear," she whispered, and struck the first blow.

* * *

Hermione didn't need to be carried back down to the cell, but she made sure they had no other choice. She lay on her belly, arms and legs bent at odd angles that hurt her but she dared not move. She took very small breaths, trying to stay as still as possible, and kept her eyes closed.

Bellatrix clucked her tongue at her. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be stronger than this? Now look at her- bloody unconscious!"

"You've been harder on her the past two days, Aunt." Draco's chilly voice echoed a bit in the hall. She didn't need him defending her, would someone just pick her up already?

"Did I ask for your input, Draco?" Bellatrix screeched. Hermione tried not to flinch. "I want to get as much as possible out of her before I leave tomorrow."

Wait, Bellatrix was leaving? Would she be left alone then?

"More out of her than the nothing she's given us so far, you mean?" Hermione could almost hear Draco's signature smirk.

"Shut up, you ungrateful brat! Just get her back downstairs. Don't heal her so well this time."

Footsteps approached her. Thin hands rearranged her limbs to a more comfortable position and pushed her over so she was lying on her back. It took all her strength not to cry out, her ribs were still broken and the person, she assumed it was Malfoy, had pushed directly on them.

Lean arms scooped her up carefully. She let her limbs fall limply to her sides and her head hang back as she left the floor and was propped against Malfoy's chest. He was surprisingly warm.

He pressed her harder against him as he began walking back down to the dungeons. His exhales ghosted her exposed neck, tickling the sensitive skin and making her arms prickle with goose bumps.

She hadn't been touched this gently in a long time, and as she was rocked back and forth with the sway of his steps, she had an overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around his neck and press her face against the warmth of his body…

Hermione pushed the thought away as soon as it entered her head. This was Draco Malfoy, he was only helping her to hurt her more.

But not for long.

They reached the dungeons and Malfoy nudged the gate open with his foot. He knelt down and laid her on the bedroll.

"I had expected more of you, Granger," he muttered. A cold finger traced a newly formed cut that ran from her forehead through her eyebrow to the bridge of her nose. He sighed and started his healing incantations. Hermione barely began to process why he'd touched her before she felt the same burning sensation as last time. She had to will herself not to squirm against the fire or to open her eyes.

Hermione could feel her strength returning and allowed herself deeper breaths. As he had before, he saved her face for last. When she felt the warmth of his healing magic leave it, she struck.

Her eyes flew open, taking in Malfoy who was hunched just inches above her body. He jerked away at her sudden movement. She followed him, quickly pushing herself up to a kneeling position and throwing out an elbow. She caught him right underneath his chin and his head snapped backward, his body tipping over from the force. She helped him along, pushing him down to the floor and smiling when his head made a satisfactory _crack _against the stone floor.

He struggled against her but she managed to keep his arms down with her own. They burned with the effort. She brought her knee to his wrist, which was trying to aim his wand at her. Bone met bone with a loud crunching sound and Malfoy cried out, letting the wand fall from his hand. Hermione kicked it away and it was sent skittering across the stone slabs of floor She let go of Malfoy and dove after it.

He recovered quickly and made a desperate grab for her with his good hand. She kicked him away, not sure where her feet were aiming but hearing him grunt from the impact.

She army crawled toward the wand, cursing herself for kicking it so far away, but Malfoy threw himself on top of her, his arms coming around her waist and restricting her movement.

"NO!" she shouted hoarsely, stretching her arm as far as it would go. The wand was so close. Her fingertips could just reach it-

Malfoy flipped her and she landed hard on her spine. She squirmed against him, arching her back and reaching blindly behind her. Malfoy crawled up her body, trying to secure her arms. He pinned the left one down, and got the right just as her palm made contact with his wand.

They were nose to nose, Malfoy's legs holding her own and his hips pushing into her middle so she couldn't move. She grasped his wand tightly, stopping her struggle.

Her hazel eyes clashed with his silver irises. They were more alive than she'd ever seen them, and they were boring into her with anger and other emotions she couldn't begin to identify.

"Drop the wand, Granger," he said through his teeth, putting most of his energy into keeping her on the ground. His platinum hair was falling in thin pieces across his forehead. A chunk of her own had found its way into her mouth. They were both breathing heavily, exhales clashing and mixing and inhaled again. His head dipped lower, his eyes never leaving hers. She scowled in response.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," she said acidly, spitting out the piece of hair and tilting her head to the side. She didn't give him the chance to respond. Bringing her head up quickly, she opened her mouth and bit his ear. Hard.

"AARGH!" He jerked away from her but she bit harder, tasting the metallic tang of blood, and brought one of her knees to his groin.

He let out another groan and involuntarily rolled off of her. She released his ear and jumped up to her feet, backing away and aiming the wand with a shaky hand at Malfoy who was trying desperately to follow her. She had to admit, he had admirable stamina. He was already starting to stand back up.

"_Petrificus total-_OOF!"

Malfoy had launched himself at her once again, hands wrapping around her biceps and pushing her roughly backward. She would have fallen back to the floor but there was not enough room. Instead she fell heavily against the wall, her head snapping back into the stone. She cried out at the impact, sharp pain slicing down her spinal cord, but refused to drop the wand.

Malfoy was pushing against her, his forearm pressed against her throat as his other hand worked the pressure points in her wand hand, trying to get her to release it. His hip bone was painfully stabbing her in the stomach.

"You really… don't want to do this… Granger," he ground out between labored breaths.

She would have answered had it not for his arm against her voice box. All she managed were some grunts. Breathing was getting very difficult-

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON DOWN HERE?!" Bellatrix's shrill voice cut through the dank cell.

They both froze. Hermione broke out in a cold sweat and Malfoy's eyes flew to her own with a look that said "Now you've done it."

"She was faking the whole time, she attacked me once I'd healed her," he said, not letting any pressure off of her.

"_Expelliarmus!" _

The wand flew from Hermione's hand and landed in Bellatrix's. Hermione broke eye contact with Malfoy to follow its path.

Bellatrix was properly enraged, even her hair seemed to crackle with her anger.

"Draco, darling, step away from the mudblood before you're contaminated."

Malfoy kept looking at her but did as his aunt said. Bellatrix came to stand beside him and handed his wand back to him. Both were then aimed at her.

"Oh Wormtail!" Bellatrix crowed. "Could you come down here, please?"

When the third Death Eater appeared, Bellatrix had him secure Hermione's hands and lead her, forcefully, back up to the hall that had become her torture chamber. Malfoy and Bellatrix followed her up. Bellatrix took her usual position in the center of the room, but Malfoy walked over to one of the bookshelves lining the eastern wall and picked up a heavy volume with a green cover. Why on Earth was he picking out books right now?

Bellatrix began clucking her tongue again. "Naughty, naughty, little mudblood! I see we've underestimated you." She looked over to Draco, who was walking back toward them with the tome in his hand.

"You may do the honors, nephew. You'll be taking over for me, after all."

_What?_ Hermione seethed. Of course that's why he wanted her feeling better, it would make it all the more fun for him if she still had strength to suck away.

Malfoy didn't look at his aunt as she stepped back into the corner. He walked slowly to Hermione. He didn't have his wand, just that book. When he reached her, he grabbed her chin roughly and tilted her head up to look at him. She met his eyes with what she hoped was a look of determination.

He smirked, letting go of her chin and slapping her hard across the cheek. Her eyes teared up from the sting, but she didn't let them escape.

"You're going to regret your little escape attempt, Granger," he whispered, then brought the book up above his head.

She watched its ascent with confusion, but soon it came hurtling down toward her, making contact with her skull.

Pain radiated through her head and stars erupted behind her eyelids. Then Hermione's world went black.


	3. Dreaming

**MASSIVE APOLOGIES for taking this long to update! I've been dealing with moving to a new apartment and setting up Wi-Fi and work and long story short, it has taken me much too long but here is the next chapter! **

**[Insert usual disclaimer about not owning HP]**

_**Chapter Three**_

_**Dreaming**_

_Hermione was almost certain she was dreaming. Almost. _

_ She looked around the familiar, homey chaos that was the Burrow's kitchen. She was sitting at the table, eating some of Molly's homemade scones. It smelled like the Burrow- scents of freshly mown grass and garden flowers wafting through the open window above the sink and spices like cinnamon and nutmeg not wanting to stay confined to their containers. It looked like the Burrow, quaint and messy and charming, but how had she gotten here? _

_ She couldn't remember, but as she kept eating the buttered pastry it didn't seem to matter. This felt real enough, and tasted real enough!_

_ "Good morning, Hermione!" _

_ She turned quickly at the sound of Ginny's voice._

_ "Ginny!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and running to the red head, throwing her arms around her surprised friend's neck. Ginny patted her back awkwardly and laughed a bit. _

_ "What's this all about? Not that I don't enjoy being hugged." _

_ "What do you mean? I've missed you!" Hermione stepped back, smiling, but her face fell at Ginny's look of concern. _

_ "Missed me? You saw me just last night. What's gotten into you?" _

_ "Last night?" Hermione sat back down, confused. She couldn't remember last night. _

_ "Yes…" Ginny sat at the table across from her, "we watched Ron beat Harry very badly at several games of Wizard's Chess, then went to bed." _

_ Suddenly, Hermione could remember. Flashes of a chess board and butter beer and Ron's triumphant laughter erupted and she smiled again. "Oh of course! Sorry, I must not have slept well." _

_ "Nonsense, you're still sleeping." This was not Ginny's voice, but Ron's, who had shown up in the doorway to the kitchen with a lopsided grin on his face. Hermione jumped out of her chair again and ran to him. _

_ "Ron!" forgetting everything she had just remembered she hugged him hard. His arms enveloped her and he squeezed her. She always felt safe and comfortable with Ron, he smelled like home. _

_ He chuckled again, "Good morning to you, too!" _

_ She stepped back and took him in. His hands lingered on her arms for a second, and she felt that familiar twinge in her heart. Ron wanted to be more than friends, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to cross that line. _

_ "Having a good nap, are we?" he said then, shoving his hands in his pockets. _

_ "A good nap? What do you mean?" her smile faltered again and she remembered what he had said on his entrance- "You're still sleeping…"_

_ "No," she panicked, looking from brother to sister. "I'm not sleeping!" _

_ Ron looked at her with a sad smile. "But you are, 'Mione, and you need to wake up." _

_ "What do you mean? Why?"_

"Ron!"

She jerked awake, opening her eyes not to the comfort of the Burrow but to near complete darkness.

Hermione inhaled heavily and tried to control the shaking that inevitably would lead to tears. She turned over on her side and curled into a ball, hugging herself tightly and burrowing her face into the- pillow? When had she gotten a pillow?

She sat up abruptly, the images from her dream quickly dispersing into the chill night air. Was she on a mattress? She felt around herself in the dark. All that met her hands was the soft cushioning of bedding.

Hermione pinched herself. She must still be dreaming. She rubbed her eyes hard to try and get them to adjust to the dark. No luck.

Carefully, she swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and touched the floor with her feet. This was not the unyielding stone of the dungeon; instead she felt cold and creaky hardwood beneath her toes.

"I must still be dreaming," she whispered, standing uncertainly. The floor let out a groan as her weight settled on it. She reached her hands out blindly in front of her, taking a few uncertain steps forward. After seven, her fingers made contact with the smooth surface of a painted wall. She felt along it for awhile, soon running into the polished wood of a door frame and a small door. She breathed in sharply, could she leave, then? Slowly, she ran her hands down the door until she found the cool metal of its handle, and turned it-

It was locked.

"Damn!" she said, louder than she'd intended. She stepped back a bit, took a deep breath, then ran into the door, shoulder first.

It creaked, but didn't open.

She tried several more times before the pain in her shoulders made her stop with a sigh of exasperation.

Where in the world was she?

She made her way back to the bed and lay down, closing her eyes. If this were a dream she'd have to wake up soon enough.

When she opened them again she was still in the darkened room.

_Okay_, she thought, _I'm definitely awake then. _She sat up again and tried to remember how she had gotten here. The last thing she could recall was being dragged up into the hall after fighting with Malfoy.

_"Naughty, naughty, little mudblood!" _

Hermione groaned loudly. If she had just been quicker, she could have gotten bloody Malfoy's wand and been gone by now. What had Bellatrix said then? Ah yes, Malfoy would be taking over her torture.

_"You're going to regret your little escape attempt, Granger." _

Anger erupted underneath her ribcage, bile rising in her throat. Is that why she had been given this room? Did Malfoy want to lull her into a false sense of security? And the book! Her hand flew to the back of her head, feeling around gently for any sore spots. There were none. He'd healed her, then, of course.

"Malfoy," she spat, deciding that the next time she had the chance to escape, she would take it without hesitation. She was not about to let him find new and horrible ways to torture her.

* * *

Hermione had no way to tell time, but what felt like hours later, tendrils of light began to shine through the cracks between the door and doorframe. Her room became barely illuminated. It was small, no more than a few feet wide both ways, and held the bed on which she sat, a table with a pitcher of water, and a chair. On the chair there was a change of clothes: pants, a jumper, flat shoes, a bra and underwear. She blushed at the sight of them- how did the Malfoys know her clothing sizes?

A knock on the door made her jump and caused gooseflesh to pebble her skin. She stood up and held her hands up defensively.

The door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy, looking perfectly polished as usual. His platinum hair was slicked back and he wore a well-made, black sweater and matching black pants. He ran his silver eyes up from her feet to her hair which she was sure could use brushing out. Narrowing her own gaze at him, he produced a brush from behind his back as if he had read her thoughts.

"Clean up a bit, Granger, you look like a stray mutt." He tossed the brush onto the bed behind her. "When you're ready knock on the door."

With that he reached for the handle and shut said door before she had a chance to process what had just happened.

"A mutt?" she whispered, scowling at the brush.

"Yes, Granger, a mutt! Now hurry up." Malfoy's muffled voice came from the other side. She aimed her scowl at the door then, but begrudgingly began to undress. She blushed again thinking about the fact that Malfoy was only a few steps away. At least he was giving her some privacy…

All the clothing that had been left for her was very fine. The jumper must be cashmere- it was so soft, and felt heavenly as she ran her hands across it. The bra and panties matched- green satin with white lace edging. It was simple, but sexier than what she usually wore. Naturally, everything fit her perfectly, even the jeans. The heat moved from her cheeks to her hairline as she wondered who had actually picked everything out.

She splashed some water on her face and found a towel lying next to the pitcher. Tackling her hair was the last task, and it was not easy. It was ratted more than usual from days of not brushing through it. Starting at the bottom and working her way to the roots she forcefully untangled her curls. She let out more than one painful yelp as the brush snagged on clumps of hair. Chuckling came from other side of the door and she tried very hard not to make any more sounds.

Once she finished she sighed, certain her hair now resembled something along the lines of a mushroom cloud. She looked at the door. If Malfoy were the only one out there, could she make a run for it? _Possibly_, she thought, _but I don't know my way around the manor and would probably be caught before I found the front entrance. _She made a silent decision to get the lay of the land.

Raising her right fist, she knocked on the door twice.

Malfoy opened it immediately, forcing Hermione to jump back as it swung inward. He perused her again, then smirked.

"Much better."

She blushed again, but ignored it and shot him what she hoped was her best "fuck off" look: narrowed eyes, lips drawn into a thin line.

He only kept smirking and gestured for her to follow him.

If she could only slap that smirk off his face…

She followed him down the narrow corridor outside her room. There were several other doors just like hers on either side of the hallway.

"The old servant quarters," Malfoy said, again seeming to read her mind. She just shot his back the look again and kept her eyes straight ahead. If he was looking inside her mind she would be able to sense it, wouldn't she? Unless her weakened state was no match for him.

He turned a corner that lead to a wider hallway, this one grander than the one they'd just left. The walls were a deep green, with moving portraits of stern-faced, blonde men and women every few feet.

"My ancestors," Malfoy gestured to his family, who watched their progress with hawk-like gazes.

Hermione tried not to look up at them, but one whispered "Mudblood" as she passed and she stopped abruptly, her eyes going up to the long-nosed, caped wizard that sneered down at her.

"My grandfather, Abraxas," Malfoy stated with little emotion. He didn't look at his grandfather, instead grasping Hermione's arm with long fingers and pulling her gently forward. She flinched noticeably and jerked away, stepping back from him.

"Don't touch me!" she said loudly, her voice raspy.

Malfoy sighed.

"I wouldn't, Draco. No telling what sort of Mudblood diseases you'll catch from her," Abraxas's portrait spoke again.

"Enough, Grandfather." Malfoy said, still not looking at him. He was watching Hermione.

"I won't touch you, now come on," he said softly, moving on again. Hermione followed but glanced backward toward Abraxas, who was now shaking his painted head.

They continued down the portrait hall before reaching a set of double doors. Malfoy opened them to reveal a room that had a long table set with several plates of food. He walked up to the chair at the head of the table and pulled it out, gesturing for her to sit in it. She eyed the chair and him distrustfully.

Malfoy sighed again. "If you don't want me to forcibly drag you into the chair, I would suggest sitting down."

Hermione hesitated, but did as he said. He moved to stand on her side and began dishing food onto the plate in front of her. She looked at him in disbelief- what sort of tactic was this?

"Whatever game you're trying to play, Malfoy, it won't work," she said, her voice still rusty. "I didn't give information up to Bellatrix and I'm certainly not telling you anything."

"Did I ask you to tell me anything?" he asked, continuing to serve her. She bit back a retort. Technically, he hadn't asked anything of her- yet.

When he was done, he sat in the chair next to her. "Eat."

She looked down at her plate. There was ham and scrambled eggs, strawberries and toast. It smelled heavenly and her stomach rumbled. She didn't touch it.

"Merlin's beard, Granger, you are so stubborn. Here," Malfoy took his fork and shoved it into her pile of scrambled eggs, taking a generous heap and putting it in his mouth. He dramatically swallowed it then opened his mouth wide to prove he'd done so. "See? Not poisoned!"

"It would be extremely dull of you to poison me before questioning me, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. He smirked. She went on, "My stomach hurts just looking at this much food." It was the truth, she'd been living off of bread and water for days.

Realization dawned on Malfoy's face and the smirk disappeared. "Fine," he conceded, "just eat the toast and the eggs then."

She thought about ignoring the request, just to spite him, but she was hungry and that couldn't be denied. She picked up the toast and ate it quickly, barely stopping to chew. She then proceeded to shovel the eggs into her mouth, swallowing them in large heaps.

Malfoy watched, clearly amused, and offered her a glass filled with water. She took it and chugged it, relishing the feel of the liquid quenching her dry throat.

When she'd finished she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin next to her plate and stared back at him. "Happy?"

He nodded, then stood and walked behind her, pulling her chair out.

"Come on, the day is young." He motioned for her to follow him again. She did it as slowly as she could manage, making him smirk yet again. She reached him and they walked side by side.

"You're very chipper today, Malfoy," she muttered as they left the dining room. He looked surprised at her statement.

"My family isn't in the house, of course I'm chipper," he said.

"I can see why that would make someone happy," Hermione said acidly. Malfoy didn't respond, instead choosing to frown and look away from her as they made their way toward the end of the hall. Another set of double doors greeted them. Malfoy grabbed the handles and pushed them open.

It was the library.

Hermione smiled for the first time in days at the sight of the manor's huge book collection, then immediately scowled when she caught Malfoy watching her again. He nodded towards the sitting area in the center.

"Make yourself at home, read whatever you want. I have business to attend to."

Hermione stared at him, her confusion evident on her face. "What?"

"Are you deaf, Granger? I said go read! That is your only past time, isn't it?" the smirk was back. Hermione didn't move. He was going to leave her here, alone?

"For Salazar's sake," he muttered, then forcibly took her by the shoulders and pushed her into the room.

"Hey!" she shrieked, shoving his hand away. His skin was cold under her hands and she shivered away from him. "I told you not to touch me!"

"Well you weren't moving!" he said. He turned his back on her and moved to shut the doors. She turned her back to him too, what was he thinking, leaving her here? She could escape! She smiled again.

"Oh, and Granger," she turned back around to see Malfoy had closed the doors part way and was eyeing her through the gap. "I'll be locking you in, don't need you trying to escape again now do we?"

Her jaw dropped open and he laughed, shutting the doors with a loud _click!_

"Malfoy you insufferable git!" she screamed at the mahogany.

"Can't hear you Granger!" he called back.

She turned around with an audible _huff_ and surveyed the library. She supposed there could be worse prisons.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading! I enjoyed writing some more dialogue between Draco and Hermione, so please let me know what you think! Already working on the next chapter and I promise it will be up quicker than this one was :)**


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